“It was free,” I say defensively.
“I’m not judging. It’s very maternal.”
“Yeah. I’m gonna close the door now.”
He laughs. Really laughs. “Drink your coffee. I’ll see you downstairs in an hour.”
“I’ll be there.”
He turns to leave, then pauses and looks back.
“For what it’s worth, Eleanor, I’m actually glad you’re here. Even if it’s temporary. And even if you leave in a few months. I’m glad you got to know this place. Got to know…”
He doesn’t finish his sentence. He just gives me one of those looks that makes my stomach flutter, and then he’s gone.
I close the door and lean against it, holding my coffee, trying to calm my racing heart.
This is bad.
This is very bad.
Because somewhere in the last few weeks, somewhere between learning to pour beer and organizing inventory and listening to Dolly’s stories and watching Wyatt move through the bar like he belongs here, I’ve started to care.
Not just care about the bar.
Not about the business.
But about the place and the people.
And maybe possibly, or actually definitely, about the man who just brought me coffee and looked at me like I might be worth the risk of hoping.
I take a sip of my coffee.
He remembered that I like it with cream and two sugars.
I think about Dolly’s question from yesterday.
Which world do I want to live in?
I’m still not one hundred percent sure of the answer.
But I’m starting to think I know which one feels more like home.
An hour later, I’ve showered and dressed in jeans and a cotton blouse that feels almost too casual for me. I head downstairs to the bar. My hair is still up in its usual twist, although I’ve left a few strands loose. Baby steps.
Wyatt is already there, moving around the bar, restocking glasses. I watch him for a moment before he notices me.
“Hey,” he says, looking up with a smile. “Feeling more human now?”
“Marginally. The coffee helped.”
“Good. Listen, I was thinking we could go over the supply order for next week, you know, make sure we’re?—”
Before he can finish, the front door opens.
A woman in her fifties walks in wearing sensible shoes and carrying a clipboard. She looks far more businesslike than anyone else I’ve seen in this town. She has short gray hair and an expression that suggests she is already unimpressed by what she sees.
My stomach drops.
